Fallen sentinel
by Kiwiruvian
Summary: She, proud Kal'dorei warrior, sentinel. Was once haunted for leading a double life, as an officer of the Order she had sworn to protect and as the Darklord's chosen. A guilty pleasure he had called it and was perhaps right. (Series of one-shots)
1. Fallen Sentinel

**Author's note: **This one, more than a full on story is a series of one shots, same character, in a fast paced recount of situations she got involved into. Following chapters are almost complete, but for some reasons I began writing what would be the two final chapters. So now is just going back to the start and try to stitch them back together.

Reviews/ thoughts/etc would be great! Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

A chair crashed on the wall, splintering with the force of the impact.

The figure's eyes were bright in the room's darkness. Dim moonlight through a window showed her tense posture, hands fisted to either side, nails digging into palms. Almost too pale hair cascaded down her back stopping just above her waist, dark pink shade of her skin clearly stated her as a Kal'dorei, as if long ears angling back, weren't clue enough.

The now broken chair would have burned to ashes with the magnitude of her glare, as if it had been the culprit of her pain.

No, it was all her fault. She had known it was going too far. She, proud elven warrior, sentinel, shouldn't have allowed it and had done the right thing by walking away.

A vase of elven design also met the wall.

She traced fingers through hair, holding it on the top of her head and took a steadying breath. Eyes closed. For a moment keeping still, collecting herself to avoid any further damage to the Order's property. She already had much to explain, not only the now broken pieces on the ground, but it hadn't escaped the captain's notice her periodic disappearances, even for days sometimes. He knew of her innate independent spirit and hadn't asked much of it... yet.

Another good reason to have ended it that night. She lowered her hand, turning her glare to the full moon in the sky that seemed to both, offer comfort and mock her.

It hadn't taken long, but as she stood in front of the glass pane covering the window seemed like hours or days had passed.

He had cast the barest of glances down to the bag thrown at his feet, but turned grey and shadow eyes to meet her pearly ones instead. Expression concealed under the cowl, although she could have sworn to see the smallest tightening of lips. Or had she imagined it? Had she hoped for him to say something? To stop her retreating form as she turned her back to him and strode out of the Inn his cult, Shadowlords as they called themselves, used as a hang out?

No. She mentally scolded. She had gone, single mission in mind and had carried it out. Outcome would have not been swayed no matter his reaction or words.

The bag had contained many items he had given her at one time or another, all but one. She lowered her hand to her navel, where the crimson teardrop gem rested.

He had told her to keep everything, but was ignored. There was really nothing in those items that interested her dresses, jewelry. Meaningless to her sentinel upbringing.

She brushed fingers over the smooth gem. Except this one

She told herself it was but an oversight, even if knowing deep inside that it had more meaning to it. Too late to return it now, but could not bring herself to get rid of the gem either.

She dropped the hand from the piece and turned to pick up her blade, which she had placed down when she walked into the room. As she was about to return the item to its rightful place at her back, the reflection of her eyes caught her attention. Even she could see the harshness forming, of one that does her duty and protects others, but keeps them at arm's length. A silent observer and a weapon herself. No longer was she going to be haunted by leading a double life.

A guilty pleasure. He had called it once, just as a hand traced the length of her stomach and lips brushed over her neck.

Averting her gaze, sword was finally strapped back in place. She strode out of the room, new determination showing in every step.


	2. Beginnings

**Author's note: **Second one-shot of Kyphaz.

Time has passed since the first one. Months, probably a year or two. The setting for this one is Ashenvale, were she was born and raised. Offers a small peek into her past, life as a young elf and family.

* * *

Reluctant steps echoed inside the house. She swept the room with a glance, thirteen years abandoned. Thirteen years since its last inhabitant died in the hands of a loved one, his own blood.

It was going to take some work to get the place back to its former elegance. With a sigh, she bent to pick up a broken chair lying on the middle of the main chamber. Her eyes shifted to the item it revealed, a wooden glaive…

_Two kal'dorei girls dashed though the Ashenvale forest. The first one stopped by the lake, breathing slightly labored and barely avoiding falling into the water as her sister crashed into her. She turned narrowed eyes to the other, but couldn't help the grin, even as she brushed silvery strands away from her face. The sister snickered and shrugged a shoulder. "Sorry, Ky-" the apology was cut short as the first tackled and tickled her. Between giggles and roughhousing, typical of their age, they pointed imaginary foes and told each other their battle plans to slay beasts, demons and trolls._

_The forest fell silent all of the sudden. The girls looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, knowing it could only mean danger or a predator was in the proximity. They slowly rose from the ground, their movements nearly in sync even in their young age. Finally one of them touched the other's arm, a slight nod towards the edge of the trees. The other one turned. Barely hidden in the shadows a beast moved, bright gaze seeming to lock with the girls'._

_The bear stood on hind legs and roared. Deep, loud rumble that scared birds from nearby trees. Both girls seemed frozen in place as they saw it charging to them. Big mistake but was too late, the regret of venturing so far from their elven village pointless now. The beast seemed ready to swipe a huge paw at them, when something crashed into it, making him lose balance but not with enough force to pin it._

_The newcomer managed to wrap an arm around the bear's neck, securing the hold with her other hand. That woke the girls from their trance. "Mom!" They shouted at the same time. _

_The elf, dressed in kaldorian battle gear, smirked at them and shouted back. "Quick sentinels! Grab your glaives!" They blinked at each other, same question in their eyes, what glaives?_

_The bear kept trying to shake the elf off his back. One of the girls elbowed her sister and pointed some items lying by their mother's belongings a few steps away. Wooden glaives, those that the younger sentinels used to train with. So many times they had asked for those, only to be told they were too young. Time to prove them wrong! _

_The beast's eyes widened in fear as both girls approached with the glaives raised, their eyes bright with excitement as they attempted their best to look fierce._

_The bear stopped all struggle, even with the elven woman still with a tight hold around his neck. Emerald glow surrounded his form reshaping its body, a male elf appeared instead, holding hands up in surrender. "Mercy. Oh, great sentinels!". He implored. _

_The girls tried to hold back a giggle. "A swift death is mercy enough!" The female elf replied, shifting enough to stand behind him, tilting his head back to expose his neck. The girls looked at each other, brow slightly raised. "But I do not feel so merciful tonight." She whispered to a long ear. "So torture at the hands of your daughters it is." She laid a kiss on his neck, at which the male responded with a silly grin. Then kissed his lips before letting him go. "All yours sentinels"._

_The girls giggled and ran to the open arms of their father, who in turn kissed both their foreheads. "Not so fast Huntress." He took his mate by the waist before she could move away and pulled her into the embrace…_

The breeze, whistling against a broken window brought her back from the memory. She sighed and picked up the glaive, then turned the wooden toy over to trace a finger over the worn carving. A name in Darnassian runes, Kyphaz. A slight smile crossed the elf's lips and she laid it carefully on the table.


	3. Recapture

**Author's note: **

A couple other characters are mentioned on this one. The niece Shavh'ara and her Mate, a worgen, although it's not mentioned both are druids and parents of twins. Which might make it at one point or another to a story of their own.

Thank ya for the reviews and follows! Glad to see people are liking these short stories. Def serves as motivator to keep them coming and to try improve them.

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The sun had just settled behind the mountains, the forest felt familiar and not all at the same time; maybe it was a result of decades away from the protective shade of the ancient trees and their green- purple tones. It had certainly been some time since the elven woman had stopped to just enjoy the quiet of the forest, specially this one.

Her life had been overtaken by the rush of battle, the raucous clang of metal against metal and the cries of sisters in arms. The only other time it wasn't, there was a different kind of noise, a voice, a quiet deep tone of one she met long ago. One that she found herself drawn to, if with mixed feelings; One that she found secret enjoyment on rebelling against that even now brought a slight smirk to full lips; One voice that had played on her mind over and over since a night months back when she chose duty over everything else, over him. And since then, the same choice had been made, but for a different reason and knowing, she tried to lie to herself about it.

She shook her head and then turned moon-touched gaze to the night's sky, vantage point on a high branch allowed her to see the stars and the goddess form without the interruption of leaves or hills. She brushed a pale strand from her face as the warm breeze rustled treetops. It had been only a few weeks now since she set foot again in her childhood home. It had kept her busy but even after finished, old ghosts refused to disappear. At first she thought new memories would take their place, but every room, the very furnishings and worn wood brought them back and not only those, but the one memory she tried to hide from.

She sighed, lowering a hand to the small item encased in her navel. The moonlight reflected the crimson of the carefully cut gem as a thumb traced the smooth surface. He never said so, but she knew it wasn't a store bought one as many others in his collection. Time and power had been invested on the shaping of the teardrop. How she knew of it? Simple. She made sure to know more of him, almost all his secrets as much as he knew hers. She knew his name; not just the moniker used as title, which scared even the bravest of soldiers and marked him as a powerful Darklord. She knew his face and the pale shade of his hair, almost as pale as hers, both usually hidden under dark purple cowl but that allowed through a glint of grey gaze. And so she knew of his secret pastime, skilled hands shaped rough gems into precious work. Did she keep it for that sole reason? Maybe. But she cut herself off before even thinking that there was more to it.

A frown creased her brow, maybe it was time to let go of the all memories, get rid of all that tied her to the past. Shield and glaive had already been left behind after a temporal leave, the once commander of the Order deemed it necessary even if she fought against his reasons, but he insisted. The house, maybe her niece could give it better use and erase from it the old ghosts, bringing to it laughter and happiness of her new family, the twins could grow there. Even the worgen, her niece's mate, might be able to see the advantage of it.

Which only left…

She glanced down at the gem for a long moment. As she was about to remove it, the break of a twig made her stop and sit up. Gem, all but forgotten for the moment. Narrowed eyes were directed to the ground below.

Where those the shadows of moving branches? An animal prowling in search of a prey?

Slowly she lowered herself, as silently as a saber on the hunt. The once peaceful quiet of the forest at night had turned charged, almost a void like quality to it. Landing on a low crouch, long ears twitched once as she strained her hearing; knowing someone, something was watching. Long dagger, once at her belt, was held with familiarity.

Something scurried in the distance and she quickly shifted that way, soft leather boots making light swish sound against the grass and fallen leaves. Chest raised and fell with her breathing, almost too loud to her own ears. There, still half hidden in the shadows a dark figure stepped forth, almost directly in front of her. She froze. To her right, dry leaves crunched under a boot. To her left, she caught at least other two figures from the corner of her eye. Her heart thumped in her chest. From behind, a branch snapped after being caught in the crease of a robe.

Her hand gripped the dagger, she hadn't yet shifted from her low crouch but feet had moved by an inch as the right position was taken for the charge. They didn't seem in a hurry. What was their purpose?

There had been whispers about of a mysterious group lurking about the elven forest, and some missing elves. Would these hooded figures be them? She wasn't going to be taken without a fight. Slowly she exhaled; silvery gaze trained on the first one just as she rushed him with a low growl, and only had a moment to wonder why they hadn't moved to help their friend. Why instead of moving aside or running away, the dark one had instead raised hands, which was mimicked by everyone else even if she didn't have the time to see it.

Too late she recognized the shadowy tendrils from the darkcasters, the Shadowlords, not even time to wonder what their business where in elven land and just as she was but mere inches away from her target, vicious dagger arching up on a deadly slash, was that all slowed to an almost painful haze. Not even time to finish the curse in elven tongue as darkness took her vision and with it consciousness.

The last thing she remembered, the voice once again. Flash of a memory as a gentle, yet firm, grip tilted her chin exposing her neck to the soft brush of lips and words were whispered to her ear.

"Welcome back, little elf."


	4. Welcome back, little elf

**Author's note: **Well, writer's block is a nuisance. Took me a lot longer than expected to get around writing this one-shot... which could really be considered the continuation of the last.

Hope you enjoy it. Reviews and thoughts would be great! Thank ya.

* * *

Darkness.

A numb like feeling, oppressive miasma that barely gave room to breathe.

Was this what it feels like to die? Was this how it all began or ended? Weird, came the thought, many if not all talked about a tunnel and a light towards the end that brought with it hope.

This felt nothing like that. No hope but frustration, a mental growl. The feel of limbs and muscles was there, but as hard as she tried couldn't command them to move.

More time passed. How long? No idea.

She was barely aware when the whisper like noises began. Oh, she did try to make out the words, if anyone could call them that. Growing noise was accentuated by the slam of a door, making her cringe slightly, then silence fell all of the sudden.

Once more she attempted, finally been able to shift her head and to crack eyes open. She was on a bed, dark drapes surrounded it. Beyond, a circular room, something about it feeling vaguely familiar. She fought against the heaviness forming on eyelids again, trying to focus on the details of the chamber. It was barely lit, dim light probably from a few scattered candles, aiding to the eerie ambiance.

Glint of eyes were the first thing she noticed, the frozen hue of the scourgeborne. They were locked on her own. The woman's dark skin in high contrast to bone white shade of long hair. Not a word was muttered, even expression unreadable. Was she real? Or was this just some sort of dream brought by the haze that had not completely lifted, but instead threatened to pull her back into unconsciousness.

The scourgeborne approached to the bed, a human she noticed now that the candles reflected better her features. Exotic, not one of Loarderon nor Stormwind heritage but the desert, a Tanari. Her every movement screamed of power and danger. Kyphaz fought, trying to keep awake and eyes focused on her. That eerie blue gaze was still trained on hers as the woman stopped, barely a step away from where the elf laid and reached a hand to her chin, gently tilting her head up. The hand was cold, unnaturally so but maybe not so odd for one of the reborn.

The woman seemed to study her features but expression remained unchanching. Other hand rose to trace over the elf's cheek, the claw markings. Trailing a cold finger over the length of the dark tattoo down to where it stopped at the side of the elf's lips. To anyone looking might seem almost like a lover's caress, but no feeling was shown on the woman's features and the only from the other was pure frustration and anger.

Internal struggle was great, cursing herself mentally for not being able to move, to snap at the scourgeborne to take her hands off. The woman, though, kept her close inspection. Cold digits brushed over lips. Something caught her attention though, shifting frozen gaze down to the elf's midsection. The light touch on her lips disappeared. A frown lightly creased between bone-pale brows, a moment longer, and she reached to trace a finger around the elf's navel.

On the next second, something cold was in Kyphaz's hand. Moontouched gaze shifted to it. The woman's hand, less than an inch away from the crimson gem encased in the elf's navel. The cold feeling, the woman's wrist. Instinct had made Kyphaz lash out and grasp it, preventing the scourgeborne from touching the delicate gem.

Eyes closed for a long second. "Don't." The word was more breathed than muttered. The figure simply glanced back up at her. The smallest of tugs was required to remove her wrist from the elf's weakening hold. Finally, she turned and strode out of the chamber, pulling a dark cowl over her head before slamming the door behind herself.

The quiet, the darkness came again with its oppressive feel. Little energy she had been able to collect, gone. Something she could have done any day with so much ease, took most of her energy this time.

The room faded taking with it consciousness.

…

Light tickling sensation woke her up again. Few where the times she had waked to something similar, keeping others at a distance was something she excelled at. Which seemed strange, had all things been but a dream? Impossible.

She curled fingers on the bed's sheet, a sigh of relief, movement was slowly returning. A good sign at last.

That light tickling came again, rising from bare midriff to neck. Not the scourgeborne, but a larger hand, a man's. Warm fingers grasped her chin and tilted her head gently, exposing throat to the brush of lips. Trying not to alert the one leaning over her, she kept still. Not that she was immune to the tease, but had to do her best not to squirm or tilt her head even further. Such an invitation she had kept for only one. Giving into the guilty pleasure he offered, over and over again until she had put an end to it. Breathing slowly and feigning to be asleep was the best she could do this time, but also taking in his scent.

She tensed. Eyes snapping open.

_Oh, Elune… _A mental prayer and a curse in darnassian tongue. Not a dream at all, but very real. A lot more than she'd want it to be.

Now it all made sense.

The hooded figures in the forest, shadow and void tendrils of their power; Shadowlords of course. The familiar feel of the bed and room. Yes, she had seen them before. She had been here before.

Many times under the same canopy had she hated and loved him, the Darklord, always torn between wants and duty. She knew he had enjoyed it too, all too well, for he wouldn't have been so permissive with any other. In a way she felt proud of that, the only one allowed to go further. Not that she'd have anything less, as she had been just as possessive of him as he was of her. Whereas others were taken by different Shadowlords, she was to be only at his side. Darklord, Lightbender and other names that brought many that knew of the dark casters to their knees in fear.

She felt the tilt of lips against her skin as he smirked.

Too late, he knew, either by power or mystical connection. Or more likely because he just knew her and her body that well.

Lips trailed up to her ear.

She weighted options, weapons, stripped from her. But even if she had them, would they have been used? No. Not only because he had shown many times he could win single-handedly, but she wouldn't harm him. No matter what had happened, no matter what will.

Warm breath teased her ear. "Welcome back, little elf."


	5. Training

**Author's note: **Big thanks for the favs and likes. Hope you guys like this new entry as well.

As usual, reviews and thoughts are appreciated. Cheers.

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She tried not to smirk and raised the blade.

Silvery eyes locked on the target in front, a slow breath and she was in motion again. Each step fluid, keeping to the balls of her feet but not in any one spot for longer than a couple seconds, just long enough to change direction and return in an almost leap back to the now battered training dummy. Sand and splinters covered the ground, not only around the one target used but also the others that were scattered about the open terrace. She was the only one now; the rest of the sentinels had retired earlier but she didn't mind, on the contrary enjoyed the quiet it provided. Whereas other found peace in meditation, she did in training, which required equal amount of concentration.

Blade swung over and over in a blur, each obliterating strike done with practiced precision and the deathly dance continued. Swing, crouch, turn and charge.

She was well aware of grey and shadow eyes following each movement, a silent observer, but still just loud enough for keen ears and well attuned senses to feel him.

After some time, during which she wondered when he'd give up or tire of watching. She lowered the sword, point down to the ground. Light shine covered deep pink skin while almost ragged breaths heaved her chest. She could feel his piercing gaze as she walked to her belongings and reached for a cloth to dry herself off. Staying on place with her back turned to him, even after heavy footfalls announced his approach.

Not too long ago she had awakened once again to his presence. Shocked, angry, but maybe not surprised as she knew sooner or later their paths would cross. Although had hoped for it to be later, a lot later, or so she told herself. He had made his intentions clear; she had been reluctant to believe a word of it and maybe still was. Experience taught her no one was to be completely trusted from way before they had even met. Still though, deep inside she felt relief, glad to see him again if in an almost twisted way. She had tried to deny it, to once again hide behind barriers, self-imposed shields and lies used the night when she left him.

_A firm but gentle hand had tilted her chin, making gazes meet. Moon-touched eyes to storm-like grey, which would perfectly describe their relationship: Calm before the storm or the storm unfolding, even if he could be described as the moon, stern and powerful observer, and she as the storm, reckless sentinel. _

_"Deny that you want me and you may go, know that you won't be kept against your will." She had looked away that time. The silence accepted as an invitation for lips to trace down her neck. Her eyes closed by they own accord, soft sigh almost torn from slightly parted lips as he continued his way down. _

_His hands framed her core, thumbs kneading over tense flesh, slowly making her relax with the sensuous caress. He glanced up then; normally stern expression disappeared into a man's smirk. He just knew her that well, had spent night after night learning her body and reactions that every single touch brought. Feeling him stop, her eyes opened to look at him. Slowly, he placed a kiss above the crimson gem on her navel. "Your keeping this speaks volumes, even if you decide to remain silent, little elf."_

_Smartass. She narrowed eyes, parting lips and starting to shift to both stand and put him on his place. Darklord or not, she didn't care, never had he intimidated her as much as his sole presence did others. "The reason I kept it is my own…" She almost growled. _

_His hand pinning her to the bed halted her motion though, while the other removed the gem. She stilled, unsure for a second, as his attention focused on her birth scar. He lowered lips to her skin in a slow motion, but it was the light tease of tongue followed by the graze of teeth that had her curling fingers on the sheets. _

_"You have but to say it and I will stop." He muttered while nuzzling her belly. She took a slow breath, trying to keep herself from squirming. "But when you do it, look at me in the eyes and speak with the truth." _

She shook her head at the memory as a smirk played on her lips.

He stood behind her and reached up to brush her pale hair over a shoulder, exposing the other to a light kiss.

"Isn't it risky for you to be here? The sentinels know of the Shadowlord's presence in kal'dorei land." She leaned back against his chest, tossing the cloth to the ground.

"Your worry is misplaced, but yes I am well aware of that." He wrapped an arm around her waist, hand tracing over the gem at her navel causing her to shift slightly. His other hand reached up to trace the faint puncture scars over her shoulder, stopping on one of the longer ones where its shape betrayed the tearing of the skin. "The one that did this had a merciful demise, much more than he deserved." Power unfolded with his anger, cold, unforgiving but she was used to the feel of the shadow. Tendrils flickered around them brushing against her skin in a protective and possessive way.

"She is dead now, the Order took care of it." Kyphaz interrupted, fighting the slight tensing that the memory brought. The change in posture did not go unnoticed though, and tightened his hold on her.

"I won't allow harm of any kind to come to you again, from anything or anyone." He nuzzled the side of her neck, hands stroking her sides.

A soft sigh came from her "I know."


	6. Nightmare

**Author's note: **This, I guess, is the most 'mature' chapter I've written so far, a little bit of horror in form of a nightmare as the tittle describes and comfort, or distraction, depending on how you see it.

Reviews and comments will be really appreciated, would love to know if you people are liking the story so far or if it's not really all that entertaining or any thoughts in general about it. Thanks!

* * *

She shivered at the cold breeze, but the slight movement brought with it such a sharp pain it made her gasp. Why was she this cold? Last she remembered the calm draft through an open window was warm that afternoon.

The quietness of the room did not last long though, a mocking laugh that echoed in the darkness. Pain, discomfort, even the numbing cold was forgotten as she snapped eyes up.

"No… Impossible." Was her own whispered reassurance, but widened eyes were already trying to scan through the shadows for the location of the scougebourne. Oh, she knew all too well whose it was. That cold laugh, even colder than the frozen air current from the Northrend land she had been held in, it had haunted her for nights after being rescued and even after assured the rogue ebon knight had been dealt with effectively. Not that she remembered much of it other than occasional glimpses, blood loss and exhaustion had taken its toll on her and with it consciousness. That time she had reawakened in the Order's headquarters, to the chants of a druidess and the worried eyes of a few brothers and sisters...

She ignored the pain in shoulders and arms and didn't need to glance down to herself to know all her clothing, armour and weapons had all been removed just like while under the scourgeborne's 'care' those years ago. Only short lasting warmth came from the slowly streaming blood of her own wounds. The worse of them, those she did not dare to turn to look at in case the movement ripped her own skin apart as it had done before. Hooks dangling from the ceiling had been placed all along arms and pulled tight enough so only tips of her feet touched the ground.

Three days. It had only been three days but had felt much longer.

A shadow stirred and Kyphaz's gaze snapped to it. Slow steps in heavy plated boots came closer, for a moment she hoped to be wrong but knew better. Soon she did not need to narrow eyes to try and catch a glimpse of her capturer, as the blue fire on the scourgeborne's gaze flashed bright through the darkness and locked on the trapped kal'dorei. Just like she remembered, fine features in bone pale skin and shorter ears than her own. The reborn high elf stopped in front of her, a smirk forming on too pale lips "A long time it has been. Missed me, belore?"

Frustration, anger, thirst for long due revenge boiled in her. Through clenched teeth the reply came, trying beyond hope to hide not only traces of fear but the trembling brought by the low temperature. "You… You are dead…"

"Oh am I?" A cold hand reached to play with one of the hooks over Kyphaz's shoulder. "Shall we reassume our little game? We were so rudely interrupted the first time." In a fast motion the one hook was ripped off…

…

She bolted to a sitting position with a gasp, hands gripping the dark linen sheet pooling over her legs, while moontouched gaze travelled around the dimly lit room. Through the one open window she saw the moon and stars, probably just after midnight judging by its position. Eyes closed as she took a steadying breath, trying to calm the wild thumping of her heart.

A dream, just a dream.

She shook her head slowly, chasing away the last of the nightmare and the drowsiness. It was when hands held her sides that she tensed, reaching, reacting almost without thinking, for the dagger hidden by her side of the bed.

Almost as fast, if not faster, a strong hand closed around her wrist before fingers were able to brush the metal and slowly pulled her back. She had been so distracted, lost in nightmare and memories that had not heard or felt when he shifted on the bed as well, soon after she woke up.

"Nightmare." He simply stated. Calm tone deceptive. Charged with cold, unforgiving anger.

He needed not her confirmation nor for her to say what had it been about. Powerful fallen paladin that he was and by shadows interlaced with his once light aura, a link between him and his chosen one had formed with her acceptance. One that had come as unexpected, as she was not one to wield the kind of power he and other Shadowcasters dealt with. And at the same time, one that both were but starting to discover and understand. Instinct perhaps? Either way he just knew.

"Just a dream." She repeated out loud. Where others might have apologized by the quick reaction at trying to reach for a weapon, she did not. And it didn't bother him either, after all, her pride was one of the things that had allured him to the once sentinel. Instead, he pulled her closer.

"Liar." Word was muttered against the sensitive skin on her neck causing a pleased shiver, managing to break through her still tense posture. She scoffed softly in response, but tilted her head to his searching lips. Kisses where trailed over her shoulder stopping over a faint scar, before continuing lower.

"I should go. I am expected for a patrol in Darkshore with the sentinels in a few hours." She could almost feel the smirk forming where lips brushed just below her neck. Hands trailed from her shoulders and down her arms. A content sigh, but then she shifted to sit up he caught both her wrists this time.

She raised a brow, looking over a shoulder at him. Dark gaze met her own, making her narrow eyes slightly and try pulling her wrists free. He only tightened his hold. The silent challenge in his eyes was one she knew well and had always enjoyed if in a twisted way.

"The Shadowlords had been warned away from those lands, your sisters will not need your presence there." He nuzzled below her ear.

She blinked, taken by surprise at the news. "I will go nevertheless. Let go." The request was accentuated by another tug.

He quirked a brow, looking up once more. "Will you?" Leaning closer he brushed lips against her own. "Try."

Her lips tugged into a smirk even as she trapped his lower lip between her teeth. "Try to keep me here." She whispered back after releasing him.

Much faster than she expected, he both lowered her back to the bed and pulled both hands above her head. Holding them secured in one of his, while the other traced down her side.

"I will do more than just try."


	7. The Shadowlord

**Author's Note: **Figured it was time to add another character to this story. So, here it goes, a powerful Shadowlord and one that has a more or less personal issues with the more powerful "Darklord"

And do not fear, there is plenty of other characters still to make it into the story at some point or another.

Enjoy and remember, reviews would be greatly appreciated.

* * *

It was not often that she ventured deeper into the halls of the Shadowlord's fortress. This would actually be the first time in years. Even back then it was her Darklord the one escorting her through the torch lit corridors for whatever bitter sweet torture he had in mind. Tonight though, she had taken advantage of him being called away to explore more of the premises on her own.

Oh. She had no doubt he'd be ticked off when, not if, he discovered her wandering about, something he had warned against over and over.

A knock came to the chamber's door earlier that night while they were lying on the large bed. She only opened her eyes, noticing when his hand stopped stroking her hair and settled on her back. Rarely did she allow herself to lower her guard in such a way, as always though, with him she made the exception. Fingers curled in an almost possessive way over her skin. The glare he directed the door would have easily reduced it to ashes. When it did not and the insistent noise continued, he huffed in annoyance and shifted her half sleep form from his chest and down to the pillows. She watched with mild interest as he pulled on pants and opened the door, a slight smirk making it to her lips when the hooded man cringed at seeing himself face to face with the intimidating gaze of grey and shadows eyes, or perhaps the fact that he had clearly interrupted one of the more powerful lords of their cult. Few words were muttered between them, something that in her drowsy state she did not find any interest on overhearing.

Her ear twitched at his almost growled response though and quirked a brow as the door was slammed shut on the face of the other man. Moontouched gaze followed him as he got dressed, she turned propping herself up on elbows to take a better look at him.

"I have to leave, it will not take long" Finally he turned and walked to the bed. He grasped her chin and leaned down to kiss her lips.

"Okay." She simply replied, but eyes narrowed ever so slightly, wondering what would require such urgency that he had to leave at that hour. He nodded and released her, pulling the midnight hood over his head before going past the door and closing it behind himself.

She sighed, lying back down and looking up to the dark canopy. Few minutes passed and she looked about, a slow smirk crossed her lips. Curiosity killed the nightsaber her people used to say, she was about to test the theory. Once she located the pieces of her armor and had put them on, making sure the dark dagger was securely fastened for a quick draw. Her weapons of choice were usually glaives or bows. This time though, and for the sake of stealth, the shorter blade will have to do. She walked out the door then, not before making sure the corridor was deserted.

Shadows where easier to use as camouflage when it came to the forest, in the cobblestone halls the task was more complicated. She did manage to slip past the one or two hooded figures, relying on silent feet and hunting techniques long ago learned and ingrained. In quiet prowl she was able to move deeper and deeper into the fortress, until finally something caught her attention. Single door slightly ajar and a barely lit room.

She casted a glance over her shoulder before getting closer to it. Slowly the door was pushed open and she walked inside. A pale brow rose at the look of the place. Manacles had been placed all along the walls and a few tables in the middle of the room as if they were set up for a less than agreeable audience.

The solid tables felt cold under her fingers, stained wood had probably beard witness to many atrocities she did not allowed herself to think about. She paced along the walls, noticing similar stains here and there. Finally she stopped in front of a broken clasp, raising a hand to trace the metal. A frown appeared between her brows, what could have been strong enough to break free from something like this.

"Well, what do we have here." The mocking tone broke her mental tirade. Slowly she turned to face him. No need to react without thinking, if the man had been silent enough to sneak up on her, he would have easily killed her by now.

Immediately she knew she was in front of another Shadowlord, faint outline of shadows only the most powerful knew how to hide surrounded him. As if the cowl in dark purple shade was not enough to show for his status within the cult. Close trimmed goatee, a devious smirk and tanned skin was all the hood allowed to see.

Her eyes narrowed, not one she had ever dealt with before. Fingers curled slowly, itching to hold the reassuring weight of the dagger in her hand. She shifted her stance, something that not many would have noticed but somehow the lord facing her did. His lips lost some of the mocking overconfidence, turning into an almost challenging baring of teeth. A predator that enjoyed the hunt, not only a man with dark power.

"Think you can fight your way out of here? Amusing. I have to say, it's not often someone volunteers so readily to be a subject for my 'experiments' but I can already see you will be a perfect vessel." He prowled closer, there was no other way to describe the way he moved. Not in the graceful way nightsabers did on silent paws, more of the cocky way a wolf closed to the cornered prey. "Do tell, elf. Have you ever felt curious of how a shadowspawn is born?" Prey, she was not.

"I have heard." She replied, allowing him his false sense of security as he approached. In her own experience distance fight with one of his nature would end up badly for her. A close fight and she might be able to cause enough damage with the dagger before he muttered the first spell. "Not something I am interested on though."

Dark brown gaze met her silvery one and smirked. "Is that so?" He stopped close to her, his dark robe almost brushing against her bare midriff. "Tsk. Perhaps you will reconsider once the spawn grows inside you. Then again…" And he leaned in, placing hands at either side of her head. "That depends if you will live through the spawn cla-"

The point of the dagger firmly pressed against his throat, cut his babbling effectively. She smirked at him. "No. I do not think I want to test that theory."

His eyes bled to a deep amber color and a low growl vibrated against the blade. He pressed closer, regardless of the blade almost puncturing his skin, letting her see the beast that peeked through his eyes. "Feisty. Yes, breaking you will be entertaining." She could almost see him becoming larger as the shadows around him turned visible, thickening, readying for the change. His hands grew, dark claws forming and his teeth elongated.

She had never seen a worgen's change that close, it was almost hypnotising, nevertheless hesitation lasted only a second. Her eyes narrowed and shifted to push in the dagger, but was too late.

He jumped back almost as if her closeness had burnt him. Shadows coiled back into his body, once again under control. Smirk gone and replaced by the tightening of lips. The dark cowl had shifted back from his face, revealing more of his features for her to commit to memory. "What are you doing here?"

He spoke as if he knew her or more likely of her. She raised a brow but did not lower the dagger. "I have my reasons."

"I bet." He muttered in a low growl. "Leave before the Mind's eye finds out his favoured pet has escaped from her leash."

She narrowed eyes but her initial retort died on her lips as she tilted her head slightly. "You are scared of him."

A blast of shadow crashed on one of the racks, engulfing it in purple flames. He turned to her, dark gaze turned into a similar void's hue. "I'm a good match to the Darklord, elf." He said the last as if it was an insult. "I do not fear him or anyone else."

She scoffed, glancing from the burning pieces and back to him. "Impressive fireworks. Your temper says otherwise though." She smirked.

"Leave." He growled through gritted teeth. "And remember, one day you will not have him to hide behind."

"I do not hide behind anyone. Nor I back down for fear to another's threat."

He regarded her for a long moment. "So I've heard." He looked over a shoulder, to where steps and the unmistakeable sound of chains approached, someone whimpered. The devious smirk made it back to his lips. "Ah, they arrive. Stay to wat-"

She heard him scoff and mutter under his breath, but she was already making her way back to the Darklord's chambers. Using the second long distraction, she had melded back into the shadows and slipped from the room. She did not want to know whatever it was that he had planned to do, especially did not want to see the one that had whimpered in fear. Battles are to be carefully chosen, she knew well, and that one was not one she was fit to fight on her own.

Her way back was almost as easy as before. She passed empty after empty corridor until she reached the chamber. She sighed and silently stepped through, closing the door behind herself.

"Did you enjoy your midnight stroll, Kyphaz?"

Crap. She glanced forth to see the Dark lord's form standing in the middle of the room. Hood pulled back and arms crossed in a stern posture.

She felt a smirk crossing her lips. "Was a unique experience."


End file.
